


Found Family

by curiouscorvid (prometheanTactician)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Child Abuse, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Thanksgiving, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 02:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12807963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prometheanTactician/pseuds/curiouscorvid
Summary: Edward sounded… despondent. Subdued. He never sounded like that. He was always so energetic, so animated. Jon’s anxiety spiked as he worried over his friend. Boyfriend? Whatever.





	Found Family

**Author's Note:**

> Some people I know are having a hard time this American Thanksgiving. I had time on my hands tonight as a Canadian, so I wrote something for them in the hopes it would help. I sincerely hope it does.

Half past four on Thanksgiving evening, Jonathan Crane was trying and failing to tie his tie properly despite his shaking hands. Things needed to go well. If he was anything less than perfect, if a single hair was out of place, if he spoke out of turn or looked at someone the wrong way, his grandmother would-

Well. That didn’t bear thinking about, did it? Thinking about it wouldn’t change it.

But it was all he could do. Think about it. Worry about it. Stress about it. Every single year he tried to meet her impossible standards. Every single year, he failed. Every single year, he paid for it. He clutched the edge of the counter with white knuckles, bowed his head and tried to breathe evenly. His tie still hung untied around his neck. He needed to calm down. He’d never make it through the night if he kept on like this.

His phone buzzed on the counter, making him jump and damn near fall back through the shower curtain and into the bathtub. He barely managed to keep his balance. Checking his phone, something lifted in his chest. For just a moment, the anxiety was replaced with relief. Only for a moment, though. Hearing from Edward always made him smile, but it never lasted long. His grandmother made sure of that.

[Received 4:35pm]

Thankful for how shitty this evening is yet?

[Sent 4:35]

I cant neie my tiej. My hnad sare shaking too hard.

[Received 4:36pm]

Fuck. Yeah, I can tell.

[Received 4:36pm]

Deep breaths, okay? We can both get through this. It’s just one night.

[Received 4:36]

Like, I know that isn’t much comfort, but it’s all I’ve got right now.

[Sent 4:37]

I;n scared.

[Sent 4:37]

I dont want tiot spent the night in the cathersdal;

His phone rang, and Jonathan almost fell over again.

“Edward?”

“Your typing was giving me a headache.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I also just… kind of wanted to hear your voice.”

Edward sounded… despondent. Subdued. He never sounded like that. He was always so energetic, so animated. Jon’s anxiety spiked as he worried over his friend. Boyfriend? Whatever.

“Are… things okay on your end?” He felt a pang of guilt that he was only just asking. He should have checked sooner. He should have asked right from the start. He shouldn’t have just gone on about his own problems.

“Are they ever?” Edward scoffed, but there was no humor or levity in it. There was a muffled sound. A sniffle. Jon’s heart caught in his throat. Was Edward crying? That made him feel quite like crying himself.

“Have- Has he-?”

“Not yet. But mom- My mother. Picked out a dress. For me.”

“A… dress.” He repeated Edward’s words with hollow dread, hating that he was on the other side of the country.

“A dress. She did my hair. My makeup. She’s going to be upset that the mascara’s running.” A shaky laugh, and Jon felt something violent itching under his skin. “I tried to argue about it, but then dad got involved and I cut my losses at the first smack. For once.” The bitterness in his voice was palpable. Jonathan couldn’t blame him at all.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could think to say.

“I just… I hate it. The fabric itches. My silhouette is all wrong. God- even if I wasn’t, y’know, a fuckin’ dude, makeup still feels… weird. I don’t like the feeling of things on my skin like this. It’s not… supposed to be there.” There was panic rising in his tone, and Jon had to resist the urge to shush him. Even if he meant it as soothing sounds, over the phone it could easily be taken as him trying to silence Edward’s words.

“Just for one night. You said so yourself. Get through dinner, then you can wash it off. I know that’s not much comfort…”

“It’s what I’ve been telling myself.” His friend sighed. “...I guess I should be grateful. At least I won’t be sleeping in an abandoned cathedral and pecked by birds all night.” He muttered the words and Jon felt his blood go cold, tasted iron in his mouth. He was silent for too long. “...Sorry.”

“No. No, it…”

“I should have been more tactful. I’m not good at that.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes, his free hand clenched in a fist. “But… you shouldn’t be grateful. You don’t have to be grateful. Your trials are not worth less than mine. Don’t discount your own suffering because you believe it to be less than someone else’s. Yours is just as valid.”

“I mean, it’s not.”

“Edward.” He tried not to sound too stern, but he would not abide Edward waving off his own problems. “What if I told you that I should be grateful for my situation because at least I don’t experience gender dysphoria?”

“... I’d say the same kinda thing you’re saying to me now.”

“Exactly.”

“... Jon? One day, when we’re away from all this… Would… Would you want to spend a thanksgiving together?”

Jon said nothing. Edward continued, words too fast and tone strangled by panic.

“I mean- I don’t want to come on too strong? Just- I mean, I think it could be… nice? Without the expectation and stress. Just. A couple of guys being gay, hanging out, enjoying each others company and eating good food? That sounds nice to me. Does that sound nice to you?”

He was seeking validation. Craving it. Jon had no plans to deny him.

“Any time at all with you sounds nice to me.”

There was a small hiccup on the other end of the line.

“Gay.”

“Extremely.” Though admitting it still made him nervous.

“...You’re gonna make me cry again.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Happy tears.”

He heard the door open downstairs and the loud voices of old women greeting each other. He cringed, closing his eyes.

“...I have to go. I still need to tie this thing properly.”

“Okay. Call me after? If you can.”

“If I can, I will. If not, I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Okay.” A pause, and Jon almost hung up before Edward continued. “I love you.”

Time froze. His heart stopped. His breath caught and his mind swam.

“I love you too.”

\-----------

 

“One of us should learn to make turkey.” Edward sighed as he mixed whatever was in the bowl. He wouldn’t tell them what he was making for dessert and no one could even begin to guess. The sheer amount of baked goods he knew off by heart was simply too much.

“It tastes like wet napkins anyway. No point.” Jon complained, pouring drinks because no one trusted him with actually making food.

“Fine then. No turkey for Jonny.” A chipper voice scolded, entering the kitchen with a skip to her step and an apron tied around her. Harley opened the stove, checked the turkey and closed it again. 

“I never have any regardless.” He set the drinks on a tray and carried them into the dining room. His hands were completely steady, Edward noted with pride. He was doing well. Ed couldn’t help but smile as he returned to his mixing, Harley leaning on the counter beside him as she waited for the turkey to finish.

“Thank you again for having us over, Harley.” She just waved him off with a small laugh.

“Oh c’mon. It just wouldn’t be the same without the whole family together!” She told him, and something warm bloomed in his chest. He thought of the others seated in the other room. He thought of Selina, who would be laughing with Pam over something no one else was in on. He thought of Harvey, who would pretend he didn’t want to be there but wouldn’t miss it for the world. He thought of Oswald, who was absolutely loaded and had a million other places to be, but chose to spend the evening with them regardless. He thought of Jervis, bouncing in his seat, simply delighted to have been included. He thought of Jon, setting down the drinks and taking a seat next to an empty chair, waiting for Edward to take his place beside him.

He supposed it was a sort of family, wasn’t it?

The thought made him smile.

“...Thank you. Really, Harley, it… means a lot. To both of us.”

She levelled him with a knowing look. The psychiatrist look. He knew it well.

“I know. But you are family, Eddie. We care about you guys.” She assured, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder with a soft smile. Then she tilted her head, looking curious. “Say, what do you two usually do for thanksgiving?”

“Order in, watch the parade. Drink. Fuck. Cuddle. Be glad we aren’t where we used to be.”

“Well, sorry to cut into the last few.” She giggled, heading back over to the oven. Edward just scoffed.

“Right. Like we won’t get right to it as soon as we get home.” They both laughed at that, and as always, Edward was taken aback by how… happy he was. How light he felt. How loved. Like people cared, like they wanted him there. He felt safe.

He wanted to cry.

“I’m glad it’s such a good day for you guys.” Harley told him with sincerity. Edward set down the mixing bowl and turned to face her, stepping forward and taking her by surprised when he hugged her tightly. She hugged him back, giving him a squeeze, before letting go at the same time he released her.

He looked at her, tears in his eyes, which in turn made her own well up.

“I am too.” His voice was shaking but the smile was still on his face. There was a moment of silence before Harley hugged him again, tighter than before.

“We love you, Eddie. We really do. Both of you.” She spoke into his shoulder, and when that shoulder started to shake she smoothed her hand along his back in soothing motions. He would never forget the horrible times of his youth or the anxiety and dread the time of year brought to him. But there was a sort of victory in replacing it with something else. There was satisfaction in wrapping himself in the life his parents had claimed he’d never have.

He would never forget how it used to be, but that made him endlessly grateful for what it became. 

Jon felt much the same way.

That night would be spent with loved ones who truly loved them back, in safe places with good food and people who cared. It would be spent with smiles and laughter and joy, and truly being thankful for the way things could get better.

The night would never again be spent in a dress, or makeup, or crying alone in a bedroom or in a dark abandoned cathedral being pecked by crows.

Never again.


End file.
